Something Missing
by bug-a-lugs926
Summary: Hermione is no longer finding fulfilment in her life, but all that begins to change when she stumbles upon a very personal diary full of emotionally charged poetry. She takes it upon herself to find the author of these masterpieces and save him, like he n


Hello guys and gals!! I haven't written too much lately. Ive been so busy lately. It taken me weeks just to compose this piece of crap. I haven't proof read it properly, or edited it too much, so its not at its best. I just wanted to know what you guys thought of it. The chapter isn't finished yet, I'll finish it later and re-post the first chapter. Keep an eye out for this story, but don't count on it regularly. I got the idea from this Indonesian movie I saw late one night when I couldn't sleep, it was on the international movie channel and I loved it so much I had to write the plot into a story. I don't remember the name of the movie, but I totally disclaim the plot to whatever movie it is. Also that poem (as crap as it is - I think Ron's reaction is warranted) is mine and I claim and copyright right here and now (Thursday 5th February 2004). Um yeah that's about it. Thanks for reading fellas. And goodnight! Lozza.  
  
***~~~***  
  
Hermione closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. She concentrated on regulating her breathing. In. Out. In. Out. It wasn't working, her heart was still racing like the Hogwarts Express and her hands started to become damp with sweat.  
  
"Scared, Hermione?" Lavender whispered to her quietly. Hermione tried to smile, but it didn't seem at all convincing. Lavender put her arm around her and said encouragingly, "It's okay, Hermione, me too. But you would have faced much worse stuff than vaccination needles before, right?" Lavender added as an after thought.  
  
"Yeah, much worse." Hermione agreed. But to tell you the truth, she would much rather be facing something else. Ron's advice still lingered in her mind. "Just think of me while you're getting it done, then it won't be so bad." He winked at her. As they had gotten older, girlfriends and boyfriends and sexual urges had become a much more prominent topic of conversation. Ron always teased Hermione about her lack of interest in the opposite sex. He always said she was saving herself for him.  
  
The door to the room in which the vaccinations were taking place creaked open and Madam Pomfrey exited alone. Hermione thought this odd because, during the ten minutes she had been waiting in line, she had noticed Madam Pomfrey always exited the room with the previous patient.  
  
"Excuse me Madam Pomfrey," Hermione caught her attention, "What happened to Susan?"  
  
"Oh nothing to worry about Hermione, my dear," the old woman assured her, "she's just recovering from a little scare."  
  
"Scare, Ma'am?" Hermione paled at the thought of Susan's so-called scare, imagining her fainting at the sight of the needle, probably the size of Harry's quill. 'Oh! What is wrong with me! I'm standing in line waiting for Madam Pomfrey to stab a giant quill into my arm! I am so out of here.' Hermione was just preparing herself to leave when Madam Pomfrey directed her towards the room.  
  
"Go inside, Miss Granger. I'll be there in a minute." Madam Pomfrey indicated to a seat over by the wall, before she ducked into her office. The seat was tucked under a white table on which sat a bubbling cauldron, some rubber gloves and a box of syringes. Hermione glanced at their long slender needles and her face paled even further.  
  
"Not scared are you, Granger?" Draco Malfoy was lying on a bed nearby, and Susan Bones of Hufflepuff lay passed out in the bed next to him. Malfoy had been found yesterday afternoon by Mrs Norris on the 4th floor, near one of the suits of armour, he was in pretty bad shape. Hermione had not seen him herself, but apparently he was unrecognisable at the time. He had acquired a few extra body parts from various different animals, wizard and muggle alike, and also a few uncomfortable rashes and boils in places one generally doesn't like to mention. From what she'd heard from others, Hermione thought that Malfoy looked decidedly better. His hair was still a little pink and his right arm a little deformed, but, on the whole, he was looking quite well.  
  
"I don't think you're in any sort of a position to start teasing people, Malfoy." Hermione retorted. At this point Madam Pomfrey re-entered the room and Hermione braced herself for the needle. It took a few minutes for the nurse to prepare the needle, and Hermione sat waiting in an awkward silence, that was perhaps even more unbearable than the last lot of waiting in line she had to do.  
  
"Best not to look if your nervous," Madam Pomfrey suggested.  
  
"Right." Hermione looked the other way, scrunched up her eyes and waited.  
  
"Relax your arm please Miss Granger." Hermione did so. "There. Would you like a frog?"  
  
Hermione opened her eyes and looked at Madam Pomfrey. "That's it?" she asked, a bit surprised she didn't feel anything at all. "You're done?"  
  
"All over." Madam Pomfrey smiled at her, "did you want that frog?"  
  
"Ah. No thanks," she said. Hermione followed Madam Pomfrey out of the room, but not before glancing one last time at Malfoy who was curled up in a ball facing the other direction.  
  
***~~~***  
  
Harry and Ron were being horrible that night. Their testosterone levels were unusually high and they had spent the last hour teasing her about boys. Not hurtful teasing like Malfoy tortures her with, more just poking fun. The first 5 minutes was okay, Hermione even laughed along with them, but by now she was well as truly sick of it.  
  
"You know, Harry, I think I might have left this book I need for my arithmancy homework in the library, can I borrow your cloak for a while?"  
  
"Sure, go ahead. You know where it is?"  
  
"Yeah, thanks."  
  
Hermione's feeble excuse worked better than she'd hoped. Normally, the boys would have insisted they go too, but they were much more involved in entertaining the rest of Gryffindor House with their antics. It was after curfew and Hermione, who's arithmancy homework was safety stashed at the end of the bed, needed a break from everyone. She knew she needed Harry's cloak if she was to roam the school safely. It was a beautiful evening outside and Hermione inhaled the stale air of the 4th floor corridor with steady breaths, as she made her way down to the entrance. She was planning on sitting outside for a while, to take in the last of the warm air, before autumn chilled the breeze. Hermione was quickly yanked from her thoughts back to reality with the high pitched meow of Mrs Norris stalking the hallways. Without another thought she ducked behind a suit of armour and held her breath. Mrs Norris, as she always did, paused, it confused her thoroughly as to why she could smell a student that was quite clearly not there. After some silent investigation Mrs Norris moved along and Hermione allowed herself to breathe. As she began to move out from behind the statue something caught her foot. It was a black book - a notebook, perhaps a diary... it was too dark to investigate it further and Hermione was too intrigued with the diary to have any desire to continue down to the lake.  
  
The yellowed pages of the diary, as Hermione found out later that night in her room, were laced with a dark and passionate calligraphy that spilled out onto the pages like tears, forming verses of the most compelling poetry Hermione ever had the pleasure of reading. The amount of emotion that flowed from each stroke of the pen was so powerful Hermione felt like crying. There was no name, no indication what so ever of who this dark and emotionally trapped person was. The poems were not titled and the handwriting was unfamiliar to her. Most of the poems cried out for help. This person, whoever they are, is trapped. Trapped by, what they constantly refer to as 'the darkness.' Most of the poems have this air of hopelessness about them. Except one, poem that really stood out to Hermione. She read it to herself allowed, only to be stopped half way through by Parvati, who was trying to sleep. After being sharply asked to shut up, Hermione crept down stairs to the common room, it had been deserted for about an hour or so. She sat and continued to read, it didn't take her long before she was weeping again. She let her tears flow freely with the knowledge that this time she was alone.  
  
"Hermione?" a soft voice asked her from the shadows somewhere, "are you okay?"  
  
Hermione glanced around the room looking for the source of the question. In answer to her thoughts, Ron Weasley revealed himself from underneath Harry's cloak. "Ron, what are you doing down here?"  
  
"On my way to the kitchens for a midnight snack. What are you doing crying in the common room in the middle of the night?" Ron went and sat by her, enveloping her into a hug.  
  
"Oh, Ron." She sighed, "I found this book. Its so sad, but so beautiful." She pulled out of his arms and handed him the book. Ron flipped through it spending not more than 30 seconds on a few of the pages.  
  
"Poems?" He questioned after a minute or so. "They're kind of depressing."  
  
"This person is calling for help. He needs us Ron. We have to find out who wrote these." Hermione's eyes lit up with passion and excitement as she smelled another adventure.  
  
"No." Ron said without thinking.  
  
"What?! Ron..."  
  
"Hermione, we have enough of our own problems without having to worry about someone else's." Ron answered. Ron was very serious about this. He had prefect duties to worry about, Quidditch, the Dark Lord and Harry was still getting over the death of Sirius. He wasn't being selfish, he just didn't have time to worry about someone else.  
  
"Ron I know you're still worrying about Harry, but what if this helps him take his mind off it. You know, another investigation. Clues. We'll be the trio again. Ron, something has happened to us. Maybe this is our answer." Hermione looked at him sincerely. Something had happened to them. After Sirius died, Harry distanced himself from everyone. Voldemort had taken his parents, now Sirius, even Cedric had died because of him. Somehow he had convinced himself that Hermione and Ron were next, Ron had only just convinced him he was being ridiculous a few weeks ago. The night Hermione found the book was one of the rare moments when he was just purely himself. When he was indifferent to the world and anything anybody thought of him.  
  
"Hermione, this guy sounds like a no hoper. I mean look at this stuff...." Ron looked at her doubtfully. Ron thought an adventure was exactly what they needed, but surely not one like this.  
  
"Look at this one. It's near the back so it means it's a new one." Ron sighed as Hermione cleared her throat and began to read.  
  
"I know that I can fly away. Look here, these are my wings. Fly away with me, And leave these awful things.  
  
Leave the darkness, For the light. Escape the dungeon. Fight the fight.  
  
Grow back your feathers, Make a stand. Don't give in To his command.  
  
I know that you can fly away. Look here, see your wings. I know that you can fly away And leave these awful things."  
  
"That was crap."  
  
"Ron!" Hermione threw a cushion at his head, but he caught it easily.  
  
"Okay. Okay. I'm sorry. That was beautiful Hermione." He grinned at her in such a way that she couldn't help laughing.  
  
"Come on. Lets go to the kitchen. I guess I'm a little hungry too."  
  
They both hid themselves under the cloak and headed out of the common room.  
  
***~~~***  
  
Hermione's endless thirst for knowledge could no longer be quenched by books, they held no new theories, no new spells, there were no surprises anymore and it was beginning to bore her. She moved, now, from endless reading, to a lot of reading and an endless need to experience and discover things for herself. Not so long ago, as a fresh, new mind at Hogwarts, she could imagine herself in McGonagall's shoes; a highly respected member of the Hogwarts staff, Deputy Head and Leader of Gryffindor House. But now, she wasn't sure teaching others could fully satisfy her. Her future was up in the air at the moment. Fighting evil only had so many rewards, it challenged her, kept her on her toes, but she was still missing something. The question still remained though, what was missing? The enchanting words from that tattered little book flowed through her head for days after that first night and somehow, the feeling that something was missing in her life became less prominent.  
  
"Miss Granger!"  
  
Hermione snapped her head up to face Professor Snape, who was white in the face, even more so than usual. She had drifted off again in class, she found herself day dreaming more and more often lately. It seemed Hogwarts could no longer hold her attention anymore. And frankly it was beginning to wear thin with all of her professors.  
  
"I don't mean to interrupt you, Miss Granger, but I would appreciate it if you could possibly pay attention in my class!"  
  
"Yes, Professor, certainly. I apologise."  
  
"Don't apologise, Miss Granger, I don't care!! Just try and stay awake!!" Snape was cold, but his words held more of a sting than usual. Maybe there was more to this ghost of a man than most people thought. 


End file.
